I looked down, my hands were covered in blood. The man on the table was screaming and gasping for air. "Help him!" someone shouted at me. "Do something!" someone else screamed. Everything was blurry and I could see faces around me looking disappointed and scared. I began to cry. Suddenly I sprung up from my bed in cold sweat. It was a nightmare. "It was just a dream, just a dream," I murmured to myself. A nurse from across the room looked at me.

"You alright there?" She asked.

I nodded and got up with water still in my eyes. She walked over to me. "You were dreamin' 'bout the war again."

I nodded again and tried to smile. "I'm alright, Sue."

"No you ain't alright! You hardly sleep and you're lookin' sickly," she protested.

"That's ok, Sue. Gives me more time at night to look after the folks here. Let's just get started on breakfast."

I went behind the changing screen and took off my nightgown, seeing the few scars I had from being a nurse during the civil war. The men called the other doctors and me "sawbones". Which was accurate. The number of limbs we had to amputate made my stomach turn whenever I thought back on it.

I put on my corset, undergarments, dress, and headed out to the hospital kitchen. Every day we cooked for all the patients in the hospital and men back from war who were having lots of trouble. They called it "Soldier's heart." I knew I was no soldier, but at times I knew I was feeling exactly the same way they were; scared, helpless, sleepless, shaky, and nothing could help get rid of it or the images in our heads.

The day went on as usual. We cared and dressed wounds, made lunch and dinner, and spent time with all the patients. I liked my work. I liked being able to care for folk and make them smile. I was sweeping the wood floor when Sue walked towards me with a paper in her hands.

"For me?" I asked.

"Yes, it's from your uncle."

I never got letters or telegraphs from anyone. Excitedly I took the paper and sat down in the office to read it.

"Dearest Rosanna,

Work on the railroad is progressing, but slowly. I miss you, and the rest of the family and I hope you are doing well. Unfortunately this is not simply a casual message. I write to you with the urgent request that you join me in Nebraska at Hell on Wheels to help us. The camp town is in dire need of a nurse with medicine and expertise to care for them during the upcoming sickness season. Also knowing that you are an excellent seamstress will surely be put to (very) good use here. There is no one else I trust with this task. I know you are strong willed and experienced. Work is rough, the people here are a little rough around the edges as well, but I hope that will not scare you away. Please come as soon as you can.

-Uncle Thomas D.

A soft knock came at the door, and it opened slowly. One of my patients came in. He was a soldier from the Union army who played chess with me almost every day. Startled, I looked up.

"You're leaving?" He asked sadly.

I looked down. "I think so. My uncle asked me to come help him while he's building the railroad."

"Mr. Durant?" He asked.

"Yes. He's been so kind to me – sending me money for living and funeral expenses – it's the least I can do." I said with a sad smile.

"We'll miss you." He smiled.

"I'll miss you all, too."